Awful at Romance
by queerpoet
Summary: A late night visit to Kurt's room. Set after SLS.


"Kurt."

"It's the middle of the night. Are you okay?"

His lips are slick. His tongue slips, slides over his mouth. His eyes narrow, then contract.

"I wanted to see you." he says shyly, and he's actually staring at his feet.

My confident Blaine can't even look me in the eyes.

I nod once, shortly, and nudge his shoulder with my hand.

"Come inside, quick."

He shuffles inside, and closes the door with his foot.

I guide him to my bed, and sit in the desk chair. I wheel it over, watching him with naked concern.

"So." I murmur. My hands rest on the smooth fabric of the chair. It's fraying at the edges, I note absently. "Tell me."

He finally meets my eyes, and something in them sucks the breath out of my body.

"I can't stop thinking about today," he admits. "I go over and over it. How could I lead you on like that? I'm a touchy feely person, but with you, it's like -"

He blinks rapidly, and stares intently at the bedspread.

I'm on the bed before I can even register the movement, and I clasp his hands reassuringly.

Smooth as silk, trying to hide the quiver in my voice, I say, "Like what?"

"Kurt, I'm awful at this." he interjects. "What if I was flirting with you? I don't even know how to flirt. I act strong, but really I'm just -" He exhales, sharply.

"Hey, hey, you have to stop freaking out." I say soothingly. My thumb makes lazy circles on his palm. I can feel the goosebumps on his skin.

"I just like you," he murmurs, looking up into my eyes. "I just really like you, and I don't want to screw that up. I don't want to lose your friendship."

I close my eyes for a long moment, and I can't believe the next words out of my mouth. He's given me more in the last few minutes than he has in months.

But I am resolute. I gingerly remove my hands from his, and state firmly, "I don't want to lose your friendship either. If you like me, I want you to mean it with every fiber of your being. So if you're not sure -" I bite my lip sharply. "If you're not sure, I want you to leave. I can't chase someone who doesn't want me back. Not again."

He frowns cutely, and his hand grazes my cheek for an instant.

"You're amazing," he whispers. "Just amazing."

Before I can savor his touch, his hand is gone, and he gets off the bed to leave.

With his back turned, I allow the disappointment to run rampant. Unshed tears sting, but I won't allow him to see me like this.

"I almost forgot," he says quickly, and spins around to face me. His eyes are glimmering with mischief.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kurt Hummel." he says, almost smug. I can't help but smile. The confident Blaine is once again in front of me.

He digs into his coat, and extracts a single red rose.

"I know it's cheesy, but I couldn't help myself," he says, sheepishly.

My hand is shaking as I take the rose. I roll it against my palm, and sniff it once.

"What does this mean?" I can't help but ask.

"It means, I'm going to court you." he answers. He crosses his arms in front of him, and I watch, amused, as he stands a little taller and becomes the confident boy I first met.

"It's a promise, Kurt. I won't lead you on. I respect you too much to hurt you like that."

Suddenly, I can't stand watching the persona. I want the real Blaine back.

I delicately set the rose on my pillow, and am next to him with two long strides.

"Prove it," I say.

His confidence falters, and his mouth drops open in surprise.

"How?" he asks, confused.

His lips are inches from me, pink and moist. I lick my lips, hungrily, but don't move.

"Give me something real," I murmur. "Something to cherish."

Blaine's gaze darts from my eyes to my mouth, glimmering with what I hope is lust.

"Kurt?" he says, and now his voice is gentle, worried.

"Not that," I quickly say. "Not yet. I can't - not after what he -"

His finger press against my lips, languid and tender.

"I know." he says gently. "Okay?"

My eyes flicker closed in sudden relief, and I sag against his chest.

Though I was trying to be tough, my hands loosely embrace him. I take a shuddering breath, and inhale his smell. Sweet, like boy.

The tension I didn't know was there drains from my body, and his hands fold against my back.

We stand, in a healing silence, for several minutes. He's mumbling something indistinct against my ear, so I just let my hands glide over the smooth planes of his back.

"I need to get back," he finally whispers. "It's way past curfew."

"Of course you do," I reply. "Go."

He eases away from me, and the loss of touch is palpable.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks.

"Sure." I say lightly, trying to joke.

"Kurt." he stresses. "Will you go out with me, on a date?"

Despite everything that's happened, I'm still surprised.

"A date," I squeak. "You really know how to bury the lead."

He chuckles, a loose carefree sound, and I smile in return.

"I told you I'm awful at romance," he says simply.

Blaine gives me one more strong hug, before he returns to his room.

I fall back onto the bed, cradling his rose to my chest.

"No." I whisper to the empty room. "You're not."


End file.
